


Facing the fear

by Shadowmun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmun/pseuds/Shadowmun
Summary: A collection of small one-shots and extended thoughts...





	1. Facing the fear

**Author's Note:**

> The idea is neither mine nor new, sorry about that... But needed to write it.
> 
> No native, no beta, no complaints about criticism.

Despair is a beautiful thing, he says, watching me on my knees, pleading, begging, with everything but words. There is nothing left between us, nothing between me and the world. My fate was decided the moment, my father chose to fail.

No… that’s not it… My fate was decided the moment I was born, heir to one, whose ability never matched his ambition, whose old name merely consisted of stupidity, bred for too long. If not for my mother, the gorgeous, the vicious, the deceiving, I would be like him. A pompous façade, yet empty. I am not, and I pay the price, on my knees before the Dark Lord’s disciple.

Death looks beautiful on him. There has already blood on his claws and his fangs, and it is not mine. His pelt looks soft and warm and covers the wolfen figure with such perfection, that should not exist. I tremble, in fear, in anticipation, but my face is dry, my heart calm.

When death comes, though I might not rise anymore, I will die proud, I will face it with my eyes open.

Yet, it’s not death, he hands me, but life, so terrible, I flinch away, watching the blood, swelling on his bite, while the wound is already closing, like any will, from now on, if not caused by silver.

The Dark Lord wants me to live. To serve. Never to rise again… A creature, like the one before me.

But he got it all wrong, for he did not hand me my fate… but his… Letting me live, he seals it. For my mother’s hope, my father’s salvation, my own fate, that now, he can claim no more.

There is a strange glint in the wolf’s eye, mocking, yet fond. Go. Go, pub, and serve, until you find out how to rise, find out, how to lead.

Does he know, he loves me in that moment? Loves me, like my father should have? Does he know, he damns me, and saves me, at the same time? I do not know yet. But I will.


	2. After dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The play is finished, the veils are drawn. This is, what is left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the rather depressed note, but this is just me in November.

It’s a desperate feeling, his head pushing against my shoulder, searching for something… reassurance, safety… I don’t know, I cannot offer any. We are both equally lost. Still, he finds something soothing there, lays still in my embrace, tears flowing softly, silently. No sniffle, no hiccup, body and mind raw. It is over. And it is not.

The tables are turned, and they are not. He is still caged in his hero prison; I am still the villain. Only this secret intimacy, this small sliver of light in the darkness of our world…

I move slowly, pull him up to me, meet his forehead with mine, join or faces, our lips, whisper against his: “I am still here.” I doubt, that he can hear it, but know, he understands, when his hands, just now laying still on the sheets, start wandering, up my back, clutching my neck, pulling me closer, keeping me locked.

I can feel him swallow, the cheeks still wet, tears still flowing. His kisses are as desperate as his crying, lost and warm, catching and soothing.

“We have played our parts…”, he says, distanced from the low tremble of his exhausted body, almost not him at all. “They don’t need us anymore.”

I nod, suddenly nervous. I want this. As much as he does… I am a jealous lover; he is a hurt soul. I want nothing more, than to shield him from the world, make him all mine, no way to part us, ever again, no way to make him cry anymore. Go, where all the pain stops, where all the distance fades, where all the cruel colors bleed away. I pull him on top of me, never breaking the kiss, our hands meet, our skin, until it feels like we are sealed together, no space left between his body and mine.

“You ready?”, I ask, giving him one last chance to back out, I know, I have to, I cannot take, what he does not want to give. On his nod, I move both our hands and cast the spell.

\-----

The bodies were found, after the fire burned out. Buried together, because it is impossible to separate the fused bones. Identification was impossible as was determination of the fire’s cause. Authorities refused any official statement, but rumors spread, the fire was so hot, it melted the wall in several places.


	3. Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare? Hopefully?

It’s only a small mercy, after all, that the bed is soft. His body still arches in pain, unfulfilled desire, intense want. His heart still pounds, like it is breaking, his lips are still chapped from thirst and screaming, sobbing.

“Give me, what I want, and I give you, what you want.” The low rumble caresses his skin like a lover, sending shivers over his exhausted body. Never. Never. Even, if the cure wasn’t almost as humiliating as the poison. Even then.

The rumble transforms into a hiss, as his tormentor demands: “Give me the key.”

He begs for forgiveness, begs for release, begs for mercy, where there is none to find.

“The key.” Again, changed, the voice is now soft, warm, controlled.

Strained, he flexes his fingers in an inviting gesture, until the other man bows down to his lips, has him whisper hoarsely: “I can’t. I do not have it anymore.”

The room grows silent, while the revelation unfolds its destructive effect. He is dead now, he knows, and he will die on his knees, without dignity or honor. Yet the other surprises him, gritting his teeth, shaking his head. “Oh, my poor creature. You will live, make no mistake. Live and serve me.”

\----

Harry’s eyes fly open, his body bathed in sweat. He feels violated, by nothing but thoughts, the unholy presence of the evil, he helped to defeat, still ever-present in his dreams. Tempting and squirming, worming its way through the shields, years of practice have equipped him with. Sometimes he asks himself, if it is just an echo. Sometimes he asks himself, if there was an eight Horcrux. Sometimes, he thinks, the Horcrux in him is still intact.

But in the waking hours of the deepest nights, he knows, it’s not Voldemort, torturing him for the key to his inner self, it’s the darkness of his own mind, ready to strike, ready to create another hell within the living world. A darkness, which is buried deep within his magic, always there or left behind, he cannot say. A good thing, he gave his soul away, he thinks, studying the chains on his wrists and collar in the darkness, studying the familiar forms of St.Mungo’s insanity ward.


	4. Lost souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8th year-thoughts of Harry and Draco

You are beautiful like this. Sleeping exhaustedly… The hair ruffled, distributed over the pillow. As if you had been with a lover, properly satisfied, your usual perfection out of order in just the right way. It could be me.

It never can be me. You don’t think of me like this… You don’t even acknowledge I am still around. Nobody does. Nobody cares. I served my purpose. Now I am but an empty shell, staring at the wall during class, while everyone else is pretending, there is still something worth learning.

You and I know, we learned all there was to learn. You and I know, this will be no future… for either of us.

When I was back, they made all that offers, what I could do, who I could be, worshipping, what they made out of me. The image is still there and it’s still theirs, they continue to bow to it, but the stopped being me, when I stopped caring about them.

Instead I sleep daily in the classrooms, just to sneak into your bedroom at night. Watching you. I know every of your scars as I know my own. And yet, the traces on our bodies don’t come even close to revealing, what we lost.

Friends and enemies alike. Family and safety. Freedom of choice, our future. You were my dark knight and I was your white one, destined to clash on the battlefield, destined to kill, destined to die.

The battle is fought, the armor is broken, we are still here.

Do you sometimes think of me? Or do you just mourn your lost father, your lost name, your lost influence? I have no hope left, as the days are dwindling. Soon, our last year will be over. They will give me my diploma and they will expect me to leave. You will have earned your diploma and will be eager to leave.

How will I then be able to sneak to your side, calming your nightmares without you ever knowing. To share the smile on your face, when you dream yourself back to the past, long gone, when we could be kids, cruel and innocent, denied a future, that would never be.

\----

I know you there, freezing cold, waiting, crying silently. Watching me. If only I could move without startling you. If only I knew, if you are real. My days fly in a dream, shared with those, who remained, each in his own cosmic prison of survival. Each telling me, I am forgiven, when the only forgiveness I ever needed was yours.

My future is decided already. I will find my way, hindered maybe, but never stopped. Ties, built over hundreds of years, are not cut so simply. Money, influence, leverage do not easily disappear. If only I knew, how to take your hand and make you follow.

Yet, you remain a ghost in my nights, motionless, voiceless, careless. How can you think, I wouldn’t notice? How can you think, you can sneak up on a dark prince? And how can you think, he would leave you behind?

When the light had no more use for you, left you discarded, to keep just the image of you, that fit their needs, you became part of my darkness.

How would I not notice earlier, you asked, back then, only with your eyes. How would I ignore you, the hurt in your face obvious, as if spelled out in front of me. How did that happen... I do not know… I was blind and proud and foolish. I owe you the lost years. I owe you a better ending to your story.

But my time runs out. When this year is over, where will you go? Where will I find you, before you fade to nothingness? Will I catch your scent, before it disappears? Will I look into your green eyes?

Will I be able to make you stay?

I will, for I must. And until then, you can still kiss me goodnight.


	5. Yin and Yang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world, where Voldemort wins, yet Draco saves Harry

Silently I lie down beside him; silently I touch his face, my long slender hands covering his cheek, caressing the curve of the jaw. The rough stubble scratches lightly. “Will you look at me?” I ask, and pull him around, until he faces me. 

Just the slight shadow of a smile appears and fades again. “I wish I was dead.” Suddenly the eyes, until now staring into the distance focus on my face. “I would have gladly died instead of them.” 

‘And what about me?’ I think, meeting his gaze sadly. ‘Would you leave me alone so easily?’ It is, as if he can read my thoughts. Very gently, he places kisses on my face, my brow, my eyelids, my cheeks. Murmuring softly “I love you”, he finds my lips. 

“I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you”, as he glides down, nuzzling my neck, breathing tender touches to my collarbone. “I love you”, as he settles his head on my shoulder. I don’t want to believe it. I want it to be wrong, for what I will need to do to him. 

“The Dark Lords expects me to break you.” I make it cold and hard, as if pretending could drown the tears of bitterness. 

He doesn’t care. His bound hands find mine, even behind his back. “Do. Live. Survive. You are all that is left.” His eyes, green stars, Slytherin green, close, as he inhales my scent. “I couldn’t die for them. Let me die for you.”

Yet, I can’t. If it comes down to that, I have made my choice. “Tomorrow, we will meet him. And we will kill him. Or die trying.” 

\---

On King’s cross, three young men meet. Two black, one blond. Two good, one evil. Two dark, one light. Death bows to them and guides them. “Please, walk with me” he tells them, guiding them along the platform. Where it ends, where the great darkness of the unknown begins, they stop. Two kiss, eternally beautiful, Yin and Yang, darkness and light entwined. The third watches, his head tilted. Is it lack of comprehension? Is it envy? Death takes his hand and leads him on. “Your place is over there. Waiting.” Turning back to the lovers, he nods. “And yours… is outside. Come back, when you changed the world.”


End file.
